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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"Women in Love"


They sat and looked. Away in the distance was an angry redness of
sunset. It was all cold, somehow small, crowded, and like the end of
the world.
'I don't mind it even then,' said Ursula, looking at the repulsiveness
of it all. 'It doesn't concern me.'
'No more it does,' he replied, holding her hand. 'One needn't see. One
goes one's way. In my world it is sunny and spacious--'
'It is, my love, isn't it?' she cried, hugging near to him on the top
of the tramcar, so that the other passengers stared at them.
'And we will wander about on the face of the earth,' he said, 'and
we'll look at the world beyond just this bit.'
There was a long silence. Her face was radiant like gold, as she sat
thinking.
'I don't want to inherit the earth,' she said. 'I don't want to inherit
anything.'
He closed his hand over hers.
'Neither do I. I want to be disinherited.'
She clasped his fingers closely.
'We won't care about ANYTHING,' she said.
He sat still, and laughed.
'And we'll be married, and have done with them,' she added.


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